


Hands On

by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)



Series: Tumblr Follower Celebration Prompt-a-thon [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Golden Lace, Rumbelle - Freeform, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:19:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4216167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equipoise/pseuds/TheScholarlyStrumpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a stressful day, Gold stopped into an unknown parlor for a massage, not realizing he had paid for a little "extra." Embarrassed by the mistake, he takes his leave, but he can't get his masseuse, Lacey, out of his head. </p><p>Lacey's no fool. She knows that guys will lie to get what they want. But Mr. Gold is the kind of guy who doesn't need to. So, what does he want with her?</p><p>Originally a prompt-based one-shot, now a multi-chap WIP</p><p> <a href="http://theespensonawards.tumblr.com/winners">2016 Espenson Award</a> winner for Best Lacey!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Easy Mistake

The woman who led him to the room was almost twice his age and spoke something vaguely Germanic. Her hands looked gnarled and rough and he desperately hoped she would not be his masseuse. This whole week had been one disaster after another. Both Regina and her far more psychotic sister were calling every five minutes, demanding an update. He had told them repeatedly that there would be no new information until the next business day, that meant Monday. They were convinced he was just holding out on them.

He was. But that was hardly the point.

He was regretting this merger more and more with every buzz of the phone. He turned the damn thing to silent and left it in his jacket pocket as he disrobed.

The room itself was pleasant enough, small but nice smelling with a little fountain in the corner. There was a bookshelf tucked into one corner with some titles about meditation and Zen. Something melodic played softly in the background.

With a sigh, he debated on whether to remove his underwear. The bed and the linen all looked clean, so he supposed it was alright. He lay out on the table, face down, a high thread count towel covering his behind and upper thighs.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened and closed, a click of high heels. Through the hole in the headrest, he could see red, peep-toed shoes appear in front of him. He caught a waft of perfume, something dessert-inspired… vanilla and cinnamon, perhaps. It was not unpleasant.

“Hi honey. I’m Lacey and I’m here to take care of you.” She sounded young, had a hint of an accent that he couldn’t quite place. A hand ran through his hair, pulling lightly at the ends in a way that made a shiver run down his spine. Her hands felt small, but he knew first hand that size was no indication of strength. He was petite of stature but had held a black belt before the accident that shredded his lower leg.

He gave gruff instructions. “Shoulders and back carry the most tension. Go as hard as you need to, to work out the knots. No pressure on the calf with the scarring.”

Lacey giggled softly. “Well I do like a man who knows what he wants…” She set to work without another word.

As he had hoped, she didn’t shy away from applying pressure where it was needed most. Several knots in his back had been thoroughly worked and he was panting. Once she had loosened him up, he felt her fingertips running over his skin. They skimmed down his sides and under the edge of the towel. His breath came a little shorter, wondering what this was supposed to do, exactly.

He thought perhaps he ought to call a halt. This couldn’t be entirely within the boundaries of professionalism, could it? Admittedly, his back and shoulders were feeling incredible but other parts of him were growing increasingly… tense.

He hadn’t gotten a massage in a while, but he was pretty sure they were supposed to relieve tension, not create it. Yet, Lacey’s hands were caressing his skin almost like a lover.

It had been some time since he had one of those, either.

Lacey folded back the towel and began to knead his buttocks. And he fought the urge to grind his growing hardness into the sheet-covered cushion below. Her hands moved to his upper thighs, just skimming some _very_ personal areas and he inhaled sharply.

Her hands moved away. “Everything ok, honey?”

With a great deal of difficulty, he managed to turn over, clutching the towel over his groin. He was so embarrassed, he could barely meet her eyes. In his peripheral, he noted that she was young and slender. Probably very attractive, as well. Somehow that made it even more mortifying. “Miss…”

“Just Lacey,” she supplied.

“Lacey… I… I think it’s best we call it a day. I’ll make sure you get paid and tipped for the full 90 minutes,” he managed at last.

Lacey said nothing. At length he found the courage to look her in the face. He had been wrong – she wasn’t just attractive. She was devastatingly beautiful. And he was easily twice her age, a crumpled up old man, harboring a futile hope of hiding his very obvious erection from her. She would probably go home to some tall, muscular boyfriend and laugh at how pathetic he was.

She pursed her lips. “Did I do something wrong?”

He shook his head mutely, cheeks burning.  

“Well, did you still want me to take care of you? I mean, I don’t mind. It’s my job and you’re a good looking guy. Plus, you look like you could really use it.” She began to reach for the towel that covered what was left of his dignity.

“What?” he asked, uncertain if he was understanding this properly.

“Your happy ending, baby… You signed up for the deluxe package. That includes a – “

He held out a hand to stop her “Yes, thank you.  I… I know what a happy ending is.” He ran his free hand through his hair. “I didn’t know this was… that kind of establishment.”

Lacey quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah. Sure you didn’t. Just wandered in by mistake, right?”

Gold squeezed his eyes shut, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

Both of Lacey’s brows shot up. “Well shit… you really had no idea, did you?” She made a smacking sound with her tongue and grabbed his clothing from the hook on the wall. She held it out to him. And he took it gratefully. “It was nice meeting you, Mister. You seem… like a real gentleman. And I don’t meet too many of those in my line of work.” She gave a wry laugh and turned toward the door.

He began pulling on his underwear and trousers. She paused, her hand on the handle. “Kind of a shame though… I was,” she glanced back at him, her eyes running up and down his body, now at least partially clothed. Her eyes met his and she licked her lips. “I was kinda looking forward to this one.”

Gold’s mouth went dry. It had to be a ploy, a way for her to boost business. But damned if it didn’t almost work… He was on the verge of telling her to continue when she turned away with a rueful smile and left the room.


	2. Try, try again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, a part two happened!

Richard Gold flipped the card over and over between his fingers. The hideous typeface on one side and then a quickly scrawled phone number on the other. Flip. Flip. Flip. 

His mobile he held in his other hand, as though it would make the decision for him if he held the two objects close together. He had barely stopped thinking about her for a week. The girl with the accent and those blue eyes. Those incredibly skilled hands. He’d thought he’d lost her business card only to find it again in a suit pocket.

And now it was burning a hole in his mind.

Losing it would have been one thing. An accident that took the decision out of his hands. He’d already forgotten the name of the parlor. Finding it again felt suspiciously (foolishly?) like serendipity. Perhaps he was meant to give her a call. If nothing else, he could find out how serious she had been about wanting to see him again.

Then again, how could she not want to see a paying customer? And if she didn’t really fancy him, he’d only feel more the fool for having been so easily taken in.

Richard did not pay for… _that_. It wasn’t that he was morally opposed; he just couldn’t stand the thought of pretending. With a bank account his size, he’d had more than his fair share of women looking for a handout. He’d become disillusioned with the whole idea of dating, in general. But the idea of a woman only touching him so intimately because he had paid her… it was the least arousing thing he could imagine.

He held the card still and scowled down at the phone number. Women who looked like Lacey did not come on to men like him unless they had a reason.

Then again…

Shaking his head in disbelief of his own stupidity, he dialed the number.

She picked up after three rings, sounding breathless. “Hello?”

“Is this… Lacey?” It sounded like her but he needed to be certain.

She hesitated before responding, some loud pop music played in the background. “Uh, yeah. Who’s this?”

“We, um, we met last week.” He made a face at the bland statement. Obviously this seduction was off to a great start.

She gave a low chuckle. “Babe, you’ll have to be a little more specific. I meet a lot of people.” There were some voices shouting inarticulately over the music.

“At the… massage parlor,” He prompted, his excitement already dimming.

“Oh.” She sounded less than thrilled. “Who gave you this number?”

Richard squeezed his eyes shut. She didn’t even remember him. He was a prize idiot. Better to end the humiliation now. “Actually, never mind. It’s uh, it’s no matter. Sorry to have bothered you.”

“Wait! Hold on, okay? I’m just a little drunk right now. I’m not trying to be rude or anything.” She said something unintelligible to the people who were shouting and singing. The sounds receded, becoming dull and muffled. “Okay, I just had to step away for a minute. I don’t… I mean I didn’t usually give out my cell number but… you do sound kind of familiar… British, right?”

Richard licked his lips. “Aye. Scottish. And you’re not a native, either, are you?”

“Australian but I’ve been here longer than I lived there, at this point. Good ear. Most people don’t notice.”

“I’m not most people.” Richard agreed, a little haughtily.

Lacey made a gasping sound “My gentleman! Oh, of course I remember you!”

He felt his cheeks go hot. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure you’d call. But I’m flattered you did.”

He could hear a smile in her voice. Some desperate part of him hoped it was genuine. “I’m sure you say that to all the punters,” he teased lightly.

Lacey laughed. “No. I’m not nearly that nice. What can I do for you?”

“I, uh, that is… I wanted to schedule another session. With you.” His throat felt tight.

“You could have called the front desk for that, tiger. Didn’t need to ring my cell on a Saturday night,” she purred.

“Oh. Right,” he answered stiffly, feeling foolish and slow.

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t mind. I get lonely too, sometimes.”

“I’m not…” he faltered. _Well… she wasn’t wrong._ Then his pride rebelled.“I’m not lonely. This was simply the first opportunity I’ve had to call.”

“Uh-huh,” she sounded skeptical. “Well, I don’t do phoners so, what time did you want to come in?”

He made a snap decision. “Meet me tonight. I’ll get a suite at the Biltmore.”

There was a short silence. “That’s not my line of work, Mister.”

He was being brash and incredibly forward. But she hadn’t hung up. “Just the regular. Nothing more. You can bring a bodyguard for protection.”

Richard Gold was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. What he wanted tonight was another chance to see Lacey. He still couldn’t imagine letting it go past a massage, but he craved her touch on his skin enough to compromise a little dignity.

“Please?” he added, softly.

Lacey made a smacking sound with her mouth. “A hundred extra and if I feel uncomfortable at any point, I walk. Deal?”

“Deal.”

***

Gold sipped at his glass of scotch and stared out of the window at the city lights below. He had texted her the room number as soon as it was booked, and Lacey had confirmed that she would be there within the hour. His stomach was a mass of knots.

This was probably a terrible idea. Gold hardly ever did anything on impulse or without some sort of plan in mind. This had been pure fancy born from some lust-fueled delusion.

Lacey with her magic hands and honeyed voice no more desired him than did the coat check girl who had smiled after he tipped her a fiver. It was all a shadow play, designed to part him from his hard earned cash. Admittedly, at this point in his career, he had more than enough to spare. His vicious bitch of an ex-wife had finally remarried and his son was finished with college. Why not treat himself to a little something special, now and again?

He just wished he didn’t feel like a gawky teen awaiting his very first date.

There was a knock at the door and Gold nearly unbalanced himself in his rush to answer it. He paused and regathered himself as best he could. He straightened his tie, ran a hand over his hair, and brushed a little lint off of one trouser leg, then proceeded to open the door with gravitas.

“Mr. Gold.” Lacey was wearing a very short sequined dress of dark blue. It was cut high in front but left miles of leg exposed.

His mouth went dry. “Lacey. Please come in.” He stepped aside.

She looked around, the messy pile of curls atop her head spilling slightly. “Swanky place. Nice.”

He glanced out past the doorway. “You… you didn’t bring a bodyguard?”

Lacey turned back to face him and shrugged. “Too last minute for that. My friend knows where I am. If I don’t check in, she’ll call the police. Besides, I figure if you were gonna kill me, you’d pick a less ritzy hotel with fewer cameras in the halls.”

Gold blinked at her. “Very perceptive of you.”

“Yeah, well, just ‘cause I jerk guys off for money doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

Gold winced at the vulgarity but splayed his hands. “I never thought you were.”

Lacey raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

There was another knock at the door and Lacey’s eyes narrowed. “How many girls did you invite here, tonight? If this is about to get kinky, I’m out of here.”

Gold gave her a half-smile. “I took the liberty of ordering up champagne. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I suppose not.” Lacey pursed her lips and perched on the edge of the bed, looking at him expectantly.

The tray was brought in and he popped open the bottle, pouring two glasses. Lacey eyed him warily but accepted the glass. They drank quietly for a few minutes. Gold tried a few times to engage her in conversation but found her utterly uninterested in the latest trade agreements or stock prices.

She, in turn, was incredulous to find that he had never watched a single episode of something called Top Model. At length, Lacey tipped back her glass, draining it. She deposited the empty flute on the table.

“Ready to get started, Mr. Gold?”

He nodded, mutely, suddenly realizing that he would have to disrobe once more in front of this remarkably beautiful woman.

She produced a tote bag he hadn’t noticed before and fished out a bottle of massage oil, placing it on the bedside table. She put both hands on her hips as she turned back to him. “You know, you do look sharp as hell in a suit, but I’d really hate to get oil on the fabric." She sounded amused but her manner was closed off, businesslike.

His stomach fell into his toes. Nothing about this fit the fantasy in his head. Gold ran a hand over his face and shook his head. “I… I don’t know what I was thinking, Lacey.” He reached into one pocket and pulled out a roll of hundred dollar bills, tossing them onto the table. “I won’t keep you. Please, go. Enjoy your evening.” He sat heavily on the end of the bed, gazing intently at the plush carpet at his feet.

Lacey’s blue sequins appeared in his peripheral. The shiny toes of her patent leather shoes stopped in front of him.

“Mr. Gold.”

He looked up.

Something in her eyes had softened and it was as though the air in the room had changed completely. She extended a hand, tentatively, and stroked his hair away from his brow. “Do you really want me to leave?”

He closed his eyes. “No.”

“Okay, then.” Her hands fell to his tie, pulling it out of its knot.

His Adam’s apple worked as she slipped open the buttons of his shirt and slid both it and his jacket from his shoulders. She pulled his undershirt over his head and he fought the ridiculous urge to cover himself. Her eyes roamed his chest appreciatively. She met his gaze with a dreamy smile.

“Mmm, even better than I remember.”

His mouth fell open but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“Trousers?” she asked.

He picked up his cane from where he’d propped against the end of the bed and obediently pushed himself to his feet.

Lacey’s hand was at his belt buckle before he could even process what she was doing. She had his fly unzipped and he became aware that he was already mostly hard. Lacey didn’t seem to mind. She pushed his trousers to his ankles, kneeling down to remove his shoes and socks. He stepped out of each trouser leg, staring down at her in awe. She threw the fabric to the side and, for the first time that evening, seemed to notice the twisted scars that disfigured his calf. She paused for a moment, then leaned in and pressed her lips gently to the marred flesh.

Gold felt his jaw tremble and he felt the slightest prick of tears at the backs of his eyes. It had been long enough since a woman saw him so exposed, but to treat his ugliest feature so kindly… His hands itched with the desperate need to touch her. He wanted nothing more than to pull that dress from her body and worship her flesh with all the reverence she deserved.

Her hands trailed up the outside of his thighs as she rose back to her feet. Her thumbs hooked under the elastic of his underpants and his whole body went taut. She looked at him for permission, licking her lips. Even in the low light of the room, he could see the slight flush in her cheeks. Her pupils were blown wide.

For the first time all night, he began to allow himself the thought that perhaps she hadn’t been lying entirely about her attraction to him.

He swallowed heavily. “Lacey… you don’t have to…

“I know.” She nodded, her eyes searching his, then pulled his underwear down. 

His erection sprang toward her. He could have melted into the floor with embarrassment… until he saw the hunger in her eyes. Heat flared low in his belly, down his legs, up his spine. He grew even harder under her gaze, bobbing up toward his bellybutton.

She wrapped her hand around his length and he groaned. She pumped him once, twice and he pulsed within her grasp. His knees felt weak and he leaned heavily on his cane. Lacey seemed to notice the difficulty he was having staying upright.

She inclined her head. “Get comfy on the bed, baby. Let me take care of you, okay?”

Trembling with need, he managed to maneuver himself onto the middle of the large, cushy bed. Lacey grabbed the massage oil and crawled up to straddle his thighs. She squeezed a generous amount into her hands and rubbed them together to warm it.

She caressed the muscles of his chest in broad motions. Firmly, she circled his pectorals in toward the nipples, just grazing each with her thumbs. Her hands worked downward across his tense stomach with a touch that was both soothing and inflaming. His cock jumped eagerly, moisture beading at its flushed tip.

At the first upward stroke of her slippery fingers along his shaft, Gold knew he wasn’t going to last long. She pulled the foreskin back and her thumb swiped along the large vein on the underside. One hand fondled his heavy sac as the other pumped him steadily, occasionally teasing the head with her thumb. She found a rhythm that had him thrusting into her hands, his head grinding back against the pillow. He swore loudly as he felt his balls tense up and he spilled himself on his belly.

Lacey was smiling when he refocused on her face. “I’ll get you a towel.”

She hopped over to the bathroom and returned with the white bathroom towel and a damp washcloth. She cleaned him off thoroughly.

He caught her wrist with one hand. “Lacey… I… Please let me… please let me return the favor.”

Her brow furrowed, mouth in a surprised moue. “I don’t think…”

“Name your price. I’ll give you anything you like.”

Her mouth thinned and she began to pull away.

“Lacey, I’m dying to know how you taste.” He begged, unabashed in his post orgasmic bliss. “It’s been haunting my dreams for a week. I want nothing more than to give you pleasure. To make you come undone… Please?”

Her chest rose and fell, the movement exaggerated by the dance of light across the sequins. She pulled out of his grasp and he looked down, ashamed of trying to tempt her for his own selfish desires. There was a rustling sound and her sequined dress fell across his legs.

Hope making him light headed, he turned his gaze back to her. She was breathtaking in a plain black bra and knickers. She chewed her bottom lip, studying him, before sliding her knickers down her legs and stepping out of her shoes. She was shaved completely bare. It was a style he had heard about but never seen. It made his mouth water just to see her, exposed, before him.

Gold settled back onto the pillows and motioned for her to straddle his face. She settled a knee on either side and lowered herself down to his mouth. She was dripping wet already and he was nearly hard again at the thought that it was for him. He breathed in the scent of her arousal, growling his satisfaction low in his throat. His tongue made a broad swipe, the length of her slit. She was musky and delicious. He wanted to drown in her. He found the fleshy nub at the apex of her lips and teased it with the tip of his tongue. Above him, Lacey moaned as he seemed to find a spot she liked. He explored that, swirling his tongue around her clit, then darting below to trace her entrance. 

Her hips juddered and he reached up to hold her in place. He worked her with his lips and tongue until she was cursing inarticulately. He fucked her as deeply as he could with his tongue, nudging her clit with his nose. The sound of her voice was muffled by her thighs clenching around his head as she rode his mouth. Soon, he felt the muscles in her thighs quiver as she cried out loudly and a rush of wetness coated his face.

She rolled off of him with a muttered swear.

His cock was rock hard, once more, but he ignored it. Instead, he snuggled into her side, planting kisses on her hip and upper thigh. She pulled his head into her lap and began to softly pet his hair. Before long, he found himself starting to drift off to sleep. 

The next thing he knew, he awoke alone. The sun was just starting to rise, bathing the room in a golden haze. All signs of Lacey were gone. He knew it hadn’t been a dream because he could still smell her on the sheets, on his skin.

But on the table, there was the pile of cash he’d left for her. Untouched.


	3. The Best Things in Life are Free

Mr. Gold was falling asleep in her lap. She could feel his breathing evening out, his body getting loose and heavy. Lacey continued absent-mindedly stroking his hair. It was ridiculously soft and some silly part of her wondered what conditioner he used. Probably something expensive.

Everything about this man screamed wealth and privilege. He should have represented everything that she hated. He looked like the kind of man who expected the world to bend to his will. The kind of man who didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. And Lacey had already known a few too many of that sort, in her lifetime. Her spike heels weren’t just for show; they made a handy weapon in a pinch.

And yet, Gold’s behavior belied his designer suit and fancy hair products (seriously, she wished she’d asked about the brand before he passed out on her). She glanced down at his face, tucking a few silvery brown strands of hair behind his ear. The hard lines around his mouth and eyes had gone slack, a sated smile curving across his mouth.

He was not the type she’d have expected to find attractive. If they’d met on the street, she’d have walked on past. He was easily almost twice her age and not much taller than her own 5 feet and two inches. But his presence was at once magnetic and comforting.

And good fucking God the things that man could do with his mouth.

She didn’t think she’d ever come that hard with a partner. On her own, she knew which spots to hit but most guys she fucked hadn’t made much effort to learn them. Which was no big deal, really. Guys were expendable. There was always a new one waiting around the corner and they all spewed the same basic bullshit until they got what they wanted. What mattered was being able to take care of yourself.

Lacey was very good at that – in every sense.

She hadn’t really had a friend waiting to hear from her about her safety. She probably should have but, that would require having, well, a friend. It had been a reckless, foolish thing to do, meeting a strange man in a hotel room. But the very thought of it had given her a rush. The excitement of taking her chances. If she’d lived near a casino or had any money, Lacey might have been a gambler. As it was, she found ways to make every day a chance at a little Russian Roulette. Nothing crazy. She didn’t jump without a net; she wasn’t stupid. If she thought she couldn’t take down an old Scotsman who walked with a cane, she’d never have gone into the room. But, she figured, if she wasn’t at least gonna get a kick from something, why bother doing it?

Tonight had been more than she could have possibly expected. Part of her was angry for letting him talk her into a service she did  _not_ , as a rule, provide. But watching him come had left her hot and aching. She’d already been thinking of her vibrator waiting at home. So, she’d made a classic impulse decision and saddled up on Gold’s face.

She didn’t regret the orgasm. Her body was still buzzing from it, her legs nearly numb and not yet ready to walk again. She did regret the fact that it had happened on his terms, not hers. Giving a happy ending had never seemed very intimate, at work. This had been… different.

It made her want him. She wanted to taste him as he had tasted her. She wanted to feel him move inside of her. And, in Lacey’s experience, that could only be bad for business. She had a good thing going at the massage parlor. She was starting to gain regulars. She got along well enough with the other girls. And she was finally making enough rent to move out of that rat hole of an apartment she was sharing with two other girls she couldn’t stand.

At the same time, Gold hadn’t made any real demands on her. He’d begged for the honor of eating her pussy. That had happened a total of zero times in her life, before. What did he really want from her?

He’d also offered to pay “anything she wanted” for it. That thought turned her stomach. If he thought that she could be bought in that way, how long before he tried to buy other things? How much would he offer for a blow-job? How much to fuck her? She got asked that question all day long. Her standard reply was “you couldn’t afford me.”

That just wasn’t something she was interested in selling. There was a line where it stopped being a quick thrill and became a genuine business practice. That was a line she just wasn’t ready to cross.  No matter how wet it made her to picture Gold fucking her across the table at work.

She’d get fired for something like that, anyway. The parlor didn’t offer full service. They might even fire her if they found out about tonight.

That was a sobering notion.

Heaving a sigh, Lacey shifted Gold’s head from her lap and crawled off of the bed. She wiped the stickiness from the insides of her thighs and pulled on her dress. Her underwear seemed to have disappeared and she didn’t want to turn on an extra light to look for them. They were a cheap pair, anyway. She gathered up the oil and her tote bag and stopped at the table where Gold had dropped the wad of cash.

It stared her in the face, daring her to gather up her reward and head into the night. There was probably nearly a month’s rent on that table. But what did it mean if she accepted it for what they had done together? He had over-payed her last time, when it was just a massage. That tip alone could have covered the happy ending. She could just call it even and leave tonight with a clear conscience.

Or she could take it and forever taint the memory of one of the best sexual encounters of her life.

She felt like an hour passed as she stood on still-wobbly legs and tried to remember a time when her value system hadn’t seemed so fucked. She shook her head, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

No, Lacey French’s pussy couldn’t be bought. Even if she sometimes made careless choices with it, they were always hers to make. Mr. Gold, with his amber eyes and silver tongue, could keep his cash. He might own some fortune 500 company, for all she knew, but he didn’t own her.

She head to the door and peered back just once over her shoulder. Gold slept on, half curled into the 1000 thread count sheets. Men like him belonged in high class hotels like this. Lacey stuck out like a sore thumb and in the light of day, they’d both have realized that. Better to head out now and avoid the embarrassment.

Maybe in another life… She shook her head sadly. Lacey had been a dreamer as a kid, but life had a way of making dreams seem so pointless. They never came true anyway.

The click of the door shutting behind her echoed in the deserted hallway. Lacey walked away without another backward glance. 

***

Two days had passed the next time Gold’s number appeared on her caller ID. Lacey stared at it for a minute and hit the red button to ignore it. He left a voicemail. She didn’t listen to it. She didn’t delete it, either.

So it went for the rest of the week. Gold would call and leave a voicemail. Lacey would meticulously ignore it. She imagined the messages he was leaving were probably getting increasingly angry. By the 4th one, she imagined him cursing her out, calling her all sorts of distasteful names. It didn’t quite fit with the man she’d met to think of him so. But that was just what men did when you didn’t give them what they wanted. Once they figured out that you weren’t just playing hard to get but actually ignoring them, men always turned into the worst schoolyard version of themselves.

That, Lacey could count on.

But then it was Saturday night again and Gold hadn’t left a voicemail, that day. Lacey was drunk on half a bottle of cheap, shitty rum. Business had been slow today and the tips weren’t quite enough to put anything into savings for the week. Not if she wanted to eat, anyway.

She was starting to regret not grabbing that pile of hundreds at the hotel.

Was that little bit of dignity really worth a growling belly?

She glared down at the 4 voicemails on her phone as though they were personally responsible for her foolish, prideful choice. With a few choice words, she pressed the button to play the first one.

 _“Hello? Lacey? It’s… it’s Mr. Gold. I…”_ he seemed to take a deep breath, _“just wanted to say that you are… magnificent and that I… I hope have the honor of… seeing you again. Sometime. Perhaps next week?”_ There was a shuffling noise. _“Uh, anyway. Hope to hear from you. This is Mr. Gold, by the way.”_

The corners of Lacey’s mouth were turning up and she shook her head to try and clear it. Well, of course the first message would be nice. He was still hoping he could buy more of her time. She played the next.

 _“Lacey? It’s, um, Mr. Gold again. From the hotel. I hope I’m not bothering you. I don’t know if you got my first message… I… I was wondering if… Would you mind calling me back? Thank you.”_ He repeated his phone number and hung up.

Lacey took a swig of her rum and winced as it burned all the way down. The third voicemail was very like the second – a hesitant introduction and a plea for her to return the call. He sounded like he might have been whispering in the third message and she had to turn the volume up to hear him properly. Lacey sucked on her teeth as her thumb lingered over the fourth message. This was the one where he’d curse her out and call her a tease or a whore. This was the one where he’d show his true colors.

She played it.

 _“Hello, Lacey?”_ A silence. _“I think I get the message. I just…”_ he sighed, _“I am sorry for whatever I did to… Anyway, I’m sorry. I probably pushed you too far. I shouldn’t have done that. I would love to see you again, but I understand if that isn’t what you want. Before I leave you alone forever, let me just tell you that last Saturday… was one of the best nights of my life. And you are… you are really something special. I hope you know that. So, thank you for that. For being… with me and letting me see your light. If only just for a little while.”_

The call ended.

Lacey took a deep breath and played the fourth message again. Then once more. Her bottom lip trembled and she suddenly realized that her cheeks were damp. She threw the phone across the bed, looking at it in horror.

How dare he say such things? What was he trying to prove?

A sob welled up from deep within her chest and Lacey buried her head in her pillow. The tears burned hot, soaking into the cotton. Her shoulders shook and she clutched the pillow even tighter.

What the fuck was she supposed to do now?

Once she had cried herself dry and taken a few more solid belts from the bottle, Lacey picked her phone back up. She held it gingerly, cradled it in her palm. She wanted to see him again. She’d always known she would want to, but it felt like a physical need, right now. Like a string just under her bellybutton that that tied to him, and he had given it a very rough tug.

Of course, she was also very drunk. So, it could be the rum talking. And that beautiful, horrible, wonderful fucking message. Saying all those things she knew had to be lies. Guys didn’t say things like that unless they wanted something. Gold was just pulling her string. He had to be.

Well, she could turn the tables. She could make him dance to her tune – damaged leg and all (and how had _that_ happened, anyway?). With her lips pressed together in determination, Lacey opened a new text message, addressed to Mr. (What the fuck was his first name?) Gold.

_Appointment only. U know where 2 find me._

She hit send before she could second guess herself and tossed the phone back onto the bed. Enough of this shit. She needed to get out and not think for a while. Stumbling over the scattered piles of books she always seemed to accumulate, Lacey picked through her closet for something short and black to wear.


	4. Proving it

The next day, Lacey was hungover as hell. But she had an afternoon shift and she needed the money. She dragged herself from bed and took the bus to the parlor. The first two appointments were regulars. Then a new name. Then an open time slot for walk-ins. And then… there it was. Her last appointment of the day: Mr. R. Gold.

Lacey’s very dry throat worked as she remembered the text she’d sent him in a fit of pique. Well, the man could take direction, she’d give him that.

The first regular (a district attorney who always tried to grab her ass but tipped very well) complained that she wasn’t finding the usual spots. So, she shifted all of her focus back into her hands as they worked his large frame. The next two appointments flew by. Lacey’s stomach was in knots by her free time slot. Fortunately, there was a walk-in for her to take, so she kept herself busy.

After she had finished washing her hands, Lacey gave herself a once over in the mirror. Her hair was a tousled mess, but that was nothing new. Her makeup was lighter than usual, as she’d been in a hurry when she left, but she looked passably decent. The hangover had subsided and her hands weren’t aching too much, yet. The bell rang that indicated her next appointment was in his room. She gave him a few minutes to undress, as she always did.

With her heart slamming against her breastbone, Lacey knocked.

“Please come in.” said the warm, Scottish voice on the other side.

Gold was still dressed immaculately. He had removed his jacket and tie, his sleeves were rolled to the elbows. The first few buttons of his shirt were open to where she could see the top of a whit undershirt. His posture was somewhat stiff, both hands resting atop the cane he held in front of him. But his face lit up when he saw her.

Lacey swallowed as she took him in. Christ could the man wear a suit... She licked her lips. “You’re not undressed.”

“No. You said to make an appointment if I wanted to see you.” His gaze dropped and then rose to her face, eyeing her in a way that made her stomach do weird flip-flops. He gave a small smile and shrugged. “So, I made an appointment.”

“Oh.” Lacey leaned against the edge of the massage table, not entirely sure what to make of this turn of events. She bit her bottom lip and looked away. “Well, you might as well get your money’s worth…” She looked back at him. She crossed to where he stood, her hands going to the buttons of his shirt.

He stilled her hands, enclosing them in one of his own, smile fading. “That’s not why… I just wanted to… see you,” he repeated. His lips pressed together and he looked troubled.

Lacey raised an eyebrow. “You’ve seen me. You’re _seeing_ me now. There really isn’t that much more to see.”

He shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”

Lacey’s eyes narrowed and she pulled away. She backed up to the massage table again and pulled herself onto it, her feet dangling off of the floor. “Believe what you want. I’m getting paid to be here, either way.” She swung her feet in an attempt to appear nonchalant. Inside she was screaming for him to make a move. To prove that he really did want _her_ and not just a girl he could pay for her time. But she wasn’t going to beg him for it. Lacey French did _not_ beg. She might give him a hint, though.

She leaned back on both hands, feet still swinging gently, and tilted her head to the side. “Besides, I thought you were a man of action, Mr. Gold. Not just an observer.”

She watched several indiscernible emotions flicker across his face in rapid succession. He seemed to reach a decision and leaned his cane against the wall. He grabbed a stool on wheels she kept for when she was giving long foot or head massages. Lowering himself onto the stool, he rolled over to where she sat, stopping directly in front of her. His hands caught one of her feet and brought it to his lap. He removed her strappy high heel, caressing the indentations each strap had made. The shoe dropped to the floor. His hands were warm and slightly calloused on her skin. She remembered those fingertips sinking into the flesh of her hips and a frisson of excitement ran up her spine. He eased his palm over the arch of her foot, running his thumb up to her toes and then back. The touch was firm enough not to tickle but not hard enough to hit any pressure points.

He pressed in a little harder at a particularly sensitive spot and Lacey caught her breath. He lifted his eyes to hers and repeated the motion, never removing his gaze from her face. Lacey gave him a lazy grin. Emboldened, he maintained the same level of pressure, sliding his hands up her calf and kneading the muscle there. This time, a low moan escaped her lips.

How long had it been since anyone did this for her, rather than the other way around? For a non-professional, he was quite decent, so far…. She probably wouldn’t pay spa prices for it but it was nice to have someone take care of her for a change.

Her eyes fell closed as he worked away the aches and tension in her lower leg, only pausing to switch to the other leg and do the same. Her head lolled on her shoulders.

Gold’s hands came to rest on her knees and he stopped.

Lacey’s eyes fluttered open.

He was looking at her expectantly. _Waiting for permission_ , she realized. Something about that made her stomach do an unexpected flip. She nodded her assent and he parted her legs his upper body moving just slightly between them. His attention turned to the muscles of her thighs. Lacey bit her lip, the tension that had eased away returning quickly, but this time centering in her groin. Heat was roiling in her belly and her sex gave a needy pulse. She wanted him.

A quick downward glance at his tented trousers told her that the feeling was quite mutual.

Was it worth the regret she might feel, letting him in once more on paid time? His fingers brushed a little higher, almost at the crease of her thighs and she had to bite back a whimper.

Yes. It absolutely fucking was.

She caught his hands and pushed him back slightly. He looked confused until she reached under her skirt and began to roll down her panties. His eyes darkened, his mouth falling open. Once she was bared to him, she used her feet to pull him back in toward her.

Gold licked his lips and asked, breathlessly, “Are you sure?”

Not trusting her voice, Lacey simply nodded, spreading her legs even wider for him and tilting her hips. Gold swore under his breath, his eyes glued to her slick flesh. He dipped his head, running his lips softly along the skin of one inner thigh and then the other. He nibbled and licked his way up both, never quite touching the one place most begging his attention.

Lacey made an impatient noise and rolled her hips toward him. She was embarrassingly wet, dripping onto the table, already. Gold had the gall to flash her a cheeky grin before planting an open mouthed kiss on her hood. With his mouth in place there, he flicked his tongue over the fleshy nub and Lacey gasped at the jolt of pleasure. His hands came to rest at the tops of her thighs, framing his face as his tongue traced the shape of her nether lips back up to her clit. Lacey’s head fell back and she swallowed a moan.

He teased her with mouth and tongue, slowly pushing her up that steep peak. Lacey’s hands grasped at the sheet on the massage table, her nails raking into the soft cotton. One of his hands left her thigh. He slowly slid one finger and then another into her entrance, pumping them as his mouth continued to work her clit. Lacey gasped out a mangled curse word. She rode his hand and they found a rhythm together. She thought about his cock throbbing in her hand the week before and wondered what he might feel like inside her. Then all other thoughts were driven out as he crooked his fingers to hit that spot within. Lacey had to cover her mouth with one hand to keep from screaming aloud. She came hard, clamping down on those digits and bucking her hips into his face.

As she came down from her mind-numbing orgasm, Gold withdrew his fingers. Watching her like a man in a desert might watch an oasis, he placed both fingers in his mouth and hollowed his cheeks. His eyes fluttered closed and he made a needy noise at the back of his throat.

Lacey licked her lips and sucked air through her teeth. She glanced down at the prominent bulge in his lap. “Would you like me to…?” she gestured.

He rolled the chair away with a wistful smile. “No, I can… take care of myself. I am a gentleman, after all.” He winked.

Feeling loose-limbed and lazy, Lacey giggled. “Fair enough.”

Gold pulled himself to his feet after taking up his cane once more. He unrolled sleeves and pulled on his jacket and tie. He adjusted himself below the belt, closing his jacket to mask the straining of his zipper. At the door, he paused. “Have dinner with me.”

Lacey raised an eyebrow. There was some joke about ‘eating’ together in there but she wasn’t feeling nearly clever enough right now to make it work. “Why?”

“Because as much as I enjoy… this,” he gestured between them, “I’d like to have the chance to get to know you off the clock, as it were.”

Lacey’s mouth twisted. What else was there even to know? He’d only end up disappointed if he thought she had anything else to offer. But still, a free meal was a free meal. “When?”

“This Friday. Ma Chere Rose. 7 o’clock.”

Lacey blinked rapidly. “You can’t possibly get a reservation there on that short notice.”

A slow smile spread across Gold’s face. It made him look a little bit more like the man she’d have expected in that expensive suit and an unexpected shiver ran down Lacey’s spine.

“I could, actually. But as it happens, I’ve already made the reservation. That was what I originally came here today to… no matter. It’s a date, then?”

Feeling the balance of power shift out of her favor, Lacey nearly said no. But her legs were still shaking from his earlier ministrations. Any man who could tend to her so thoroughly and ask nothing for himself must at least be worth a dinner date, right?

“Sure. Why the hell not.”


	5. The Dinner Date

It was not the worst dinner he’d ever had.

A man with his prestige and financial assets had his fair share of former debutantes and beauty pageant winners pressing themselves upon him at any given time. And there were always business dinners that required a plus one. Gold had drummed his fingers against many a linen tablecloth, scanning the exits for the easiest path. He had sat through boring chatter about stock portfolios and celebrity sightings. He had even endured having his aura read by one man’s eccentric fiancée in order to close a particularly tricky deal. And, of course, there was the time Zelena Mills tried to convince him that all the other attendees of their business dinner had mysteriously forgotten to show up.

So, by comparison, sitting in awkward silence while a devastatingly attractive woman pushed white asparagus around her plate, was nearly a pleasant evening. Of course, he couldn’t speak for Lacey.

She had been 20 minutes late to the restaurant and wearing something very nearly indecent. If he had not been well known by the maître de, they may not have been seated at all. But the reedy man with the faux French accent was in Gold’s pocket, as were most of the staff at the better restaurants in town.

They were seated with a minimum of fuss.

Lacey had been confused by the lack of pricing on any of the menu items, staring at it with her brow furrowed as though it were a hidden picture. At length, Gold had ordered the 7 course sampler for both of them, with accompanying wine service. Lacey tipped the hand of the waiter pouring the wine until her glass was nearly brimming and laughed at the diminutive amuse booche.

It was a vulgar, thoroughly uncultured display. And Gold could not have been enjoying himself more, watching her. He had not always known how to play this game, either. Growing up destitute in Glasgow had been no indication that he would someday sit easily at $500 dinners. He had worked every day of his life from the age of 12, saving every penny.

America had presented him with new opportunities and he had jumped on them, stacking dollars upon dollars until he had built his own empire. That wee boy from the Glasgow shipyards was but a faded, distant memory. Yet something about the raw voraciousness of his companion harkened him back to those simpler days.

Lacey, unfortunately, was not nearly as entertained as the evening wore on. By the third course (a truffle pasta with leeks and shallots coiled delicately into the middle of a shallow bowl), her smile had completely faded. She picked at the furled knot of pasta, nibbling before making a face at the earthy taste.

“Tastes like dirt,” she muttered.

“Truffles are mushrooms. They grow in dirt, among other things,” Gold observed, deftly.

Lacey’s look of disgust deepened. “So do lots of vegetables. They don’t taste like shit.”

Gold bit back a snort of laughter, deciding not to mention what else truffles grew out of. “I suppose they are an acquired taste.” He leaned back in his chair, letting his grin expand to show his gold tooth. “Stick with me and we’ll expand your palate.”

Lacey pursed her lips, her eyes growing hard at his lofty tone. _The presumption of this man!_

 “You know… I think my palate is just fine as it is.” She stood, throwing her napkin over the plate. “Thanks for… whatever this was. Glad you were so _amused_. It’s been a real scream. I’m gonna go get a Big Mac.” She turned on one heel and stomped out of the restaurant, several heads turning in her wake.

Gold bared his teeth at the waiter who fluttered his hands uselessly over Lacey’s abandoned plate. “Just take the lot,” he snapped, throwing a handful of hundreds on the table and following his date into the street. Unlike Lacey’s exit, his was not followed by any furtive but appreciative glances.

“Lacey!” He called, limping after her with as much dignity as he could muster. “Lacey, wait.”

She kept walking, hands clenched into fists at her sides, her shoulders rigid. _Fuck him. He could hobble on for blocks for all she cared._

“Lacey. Please, wait,” he dodged around passersby, breathing hard.

At the corner, Lacey was forced to stop, pushing the walk light button with a little too much force.

Gold came up behind her. “I didn’t want you to go,” he touched her shoulder lightly.

Lacey turned, shrugging his hand away. “Well, it wasn’t up to you, was it?”

“No,” he admitted. “You had every right to go if you were not enjoying yourself. And,” he sighed, “you were clearly not. I apologize. Ma Chere Rose was a poor choice…”

Lacey made a sound of disbelief, taking a step back away from him. “Oh. My. God. Don’t apologize for picking a boring ass restaurant. Apologize for treating me lower than whatever those pasta mushrooms grow out!”

Gold’s hand flew to his chest, defensively. “I never! I hold you in the highest regard!”

“Yeah, that’s why you spent the whole night laughing at me.”

Gold felt his cheeks go hot. Lacey had not only taken note of his amusement, but she’d obviously read it in a way he had never intended. “I… find your complete lack of pretention charming, I admit.” He attempted to smile winningly.

She scowled. “Wish I could say the same. Charming is not the word that comes to my mind, right now.”

 “I deserved that.” The smile dimmed and he bowed his head, slightly. Both hands rested atop his cane, arms in a V in front of him.

“Yeah, I know.” Lacey crossed her arms and looked away. He had conceded her point but it didn’t feel like a victory.

_I find your lack of pretention charming?... Who said things like that?_

Lacey shifted uncomfortably in her heels. This was not the best pair to wear for standing on the sidewalk arguing. But she wasn’t sure they made a pair that would suit this particular situation. She would need to cab it home. She didn’t really have the money for that, but she wasn’t about to ask Mr. High and Mighty for cab fare. Or a ride home, for that matter.

Gold looked down and then back up at her, his expression turning contrite. “I am sorry. For the record. I shouldn’t have laughed. But I hope you know that it really wasn’t at you or anything you did. You were lovely, tonight.”

“Oh, apart from the total lack of _pretention_. Which in your book probably equals class and sophistication.” Lacey rolled her eyes, hands settling at her hips.

“I meant it exactly as I said it. I find you utterly charming.”

There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm or derision in his admission but Lacey remained skeptical. “Why?”

He cleared his throat, wondering how honest he was ready to be with this woman he barely knew. Something about her just kept drawing him in and there was a part of him dying to spill his proverbial guts at her feet.  Gathering his thoughts, he took a deep breath. “I spend most of my day surrounded by people who are pretending to be something they are not. I know because I’m one of them. But from the moment I met you, you have been nothing but honestly and genuinely yourself.” He took several slow steps closer as he spoke, giving her plenty of time to back away.

Lacey stood her ground, eyeing him warily. All the while her heart seemed intent on picking up its pace.

He stopped barely inches from her, bracing himself with his cane, one hip cocked. “And it takes a lot of courage to just be yourself. A lot of strength. Far more than I’ve got. I admire your bravery, Lacey.”

“Yeah, pretty sure that’s the wine talking,” she demurred, uncomfortable with the praise.

He shook his head, closing the space between them with a final stride. “I’m not drunk. But… perhaps I am _intoxicated_.” One hand cupped the side of her face and she fought the urge to lean into it.

Lacey’s mouth fell open, some smartass reply dying on her tongue at the intensity with which he held her gaze. Lacey French had a pretty well developed bullshit detector and he wasn’t raising any red flags. What he was doing, however, was simply not playing fair. At this proximity, she could feel her body reacting, could feel that knot of anger unravelling in the wake of burgeoning desire.

Gold leaned in. Her eyes fell half closed and she could feel his breath against her lips.

“May I kiss you?” he whispered.

Rather than answer, Lacey shifted and closed the space between them, pressing her lips to his. She teased the seam of them with her tongue and he parted for her eagerly. She tasted partly the meal they had shared and partly his own unique flavor, rich and savory. She had a passing fancy that he would always taste like a heady and slightly bitter red wine, even when none had passed his lips.

***

Somewhere between necking on a street corner and tumbling onto a cushion-topped mattress, Lacey found she had agreed to accompany him back to the hotel  - with no fee negotiated. The heat between them had her head spinning and her mouth saying aloud the _yes_ that her body was screaming. They barely made it through the door before, Lacey was unbuttoning Gold’s shirt, feeling the muscles in his stomach tense and jump beneath her fingertips.

They fell onto the bed, Gold grinding his erection against her hip. Lacey wrapped her legs around his, pulling him closer to her core. She moaned her relief as he applied pressure where she needed it most. His mouth found purchase through her curls, kissing and nipping at her neck, her collarbones. He yanked at the neck of her dress, planting open mouthed kisses along the tops of her breasts. They nearly tore the stretchy sequined fabric in their haste to remove it from her body.

When they were at last skin to skin, Lacey was still desperate to feel more. She was aching and pulsating and ready to burst. They just barely had the wherewithal to remember a condom before he finally slid inside her.

Gold buried his groan in her shoulder. She was blazing hot, clenching his cock like a vice. He grit his teeth to keep control. Pulling back out slowly, missing her every inch of the way, he plunged forth again. Lacey gasped beneath him, raking her nails down his back. Gold swore and thrust deep. Lacey rolled her hips, her heels digging into his buttocks.

Panting and nearly delirious with need, he drove into her again and again. Lacey clung to him. She undulated, meeting him thrust for thrust, loudly crying out her pleasure. He snaked a hand between them to circle her sensitive nub with a fingertip. Lacey’s legs began to shake, her cries growing inarticulate. Her inner walls fluttered around him as she screamed her release. He followed almost immediately after, heat searing up his spine as he spilled himself within her.

He rolled to the side so as not to collapse on top of her. Beside him, Lacey stretched, humming her satisfaction. He removed the condom, tying the end and tossing it into the bin.

“Better than dinner, I hope?” Gold asked, trying to sound nonplussed and failing miserably.

“Mm-hm.” Lacey nodded, lolling lazily back against the plush feather-pillows. Her whole body was buzzing with pleasure. Once her heartbeat began to even out, she pulled herself to sitting, looking around for her discarded dress.

“You’re… leaving?” Gold sat up against the headboard, his leg giving a warning shot of pain. He grimaced but ignored it.

Lacey turned back, her mouth falling open then snapping shut. “Um, did you… wanna go again?”

Gold chuckled a little, his cheeks tinged pink. “Well, perhaps. Not, erm, right away. But… you don’t have to… That is, we’ve got the room for the whole night.”

Lacey quirked an eyebrow. “Are you…asking me to stay the night?”

“Sweetheart, I’d ask you to stay the whole bloody weekend if I thought you’d agree to it…” Gold confessed.

Lacey swallowed hard around the sudden lump in her throat. It was such a line. Gold was so full of shit. He had to be. But apparently his cock was every bit as good as his mouth and her legs were barely ready to work yet. She shrugged, laying back down next to him.

She could spare a few more hours…


	6. We Have No Bananas Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter started as a tmi tuesday ficlet then a second prompt fleshed it out.  
> Prompt 1: Do Hands On Lacey and Gold do anymore texting? And does it ever get sexy?  
> Prompt 2: Could you write more sexting with Hands On Gold and Lacey? that was so adorable and hot!!

Gold’s phone buzzed and he glanced at it discreetly, holding it under the table.

Lacey: work is slow. Come get a  
massage… U know u wanna.

He forced away a grin that would have been vastly out of place in the second largest boardroom of his high rise office building. He tapped out a quick reply.

Gold: In meetings all day. If it’s any  
consolation, I would much rather be  
there than here.

She sent him an emoji that looked as though it was rolling its eyes.

Lacey: but im booooored

Gold: I fail to see how that concerns me.

Lacey: ass

Gold: I’ve never claimed  
otherwise.

Lacey: yeah but I bet ur bored too or  
else u wouldn’t still be texting back.

She had him there. The consultant, a swarthy man with a shifty eyes named Booth, was still droning on about the logging industry. Gold hadn’t been listening for at least the last half hour.

Gold: Guilty as charged.

Lacey: well then ur lucky im nicer  
than u.

He was about to text her back and ask what she’d meant when a picture arrived. It was taken from a downward angle, the neckline of her shirt stretched out away from the camera, offering a tantalizing view of her pert breasts, nestled in a zebra print bra. Gold drew in a quick breath and disguised it as a cough. A few eyes slanted his way but Booth carried on speaking. The first picture was followed quickly by a second. This time, the bra had been removed. Gold bit back a groan.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard. What should he say? ‘Thank you’ seemed a trite understatement, at this point.

As he was laboring over this decision, a third picture arrived. The shirt and bra had been discarded. One arm under her breasts pushed them toward the camera with her delicious pink nipples just peaking out. It was cropped so her ruby-painted lips were in frame, pursed as though blowing a kiss.

The caption beneath it read:

Lacey: entertained yet?

After a moment of deliberation, he replied truthfully.

Gold: Fucking hell, sweetheart….  
Let’s just say it’s a good thing I’m  
stuck behind this table for a while  
longer.

Lacey: plenty more where that came  
from ;)

The rest of the afternoon was the most delightful torture he could ever say he’d experienced.

***

Lacey’s phone buzzed later that night. At this hour, it was probably someone she didn’t want to talk to looking for a booty call. But then again, there was one booty call she might be willing to answer. If he asked nicely enough. She picked up the phone.

1 new message from  
Mr. Gold: Are you awake?

She grinned as she slid her thumb across to answer it.

Lacey: shockingly, yes

Gold: So you’re a night owl too.  
No wonder we get on so well.

Lacey: is that what we do together?  
I think the kids are calling it something  
different, these days…

Gold: Very funny. I’m not completely  
out of the loop, you know. I can  
recognize sexting when it happens  
in the middle of my board meeting.

Lacey: u liked it

Gold: Not denying that. Just glad I  
vetoed the plan to get a glass table  
in the conference room. My  
reputation might never have  
recovered if they thought I  
was aroused by discussing  
logging companies.

Lacey giggled aloud. She liked the getting him hard without even being in the room. She wondered if he had taken care of himself while looking at her pictures…

Lacey: [sings] I’m a lumberjack  
and I’m ok…

Gold: And a Monty Python fan?  
You are full of surprises, my dear.

Lacey: mmm u don’t know the  
half of it ;)

Gold: I’d certainly like to.

Lacey licked her lips, settling back against her pillows. She had done the picture thing, already. Sending more now would be redundant. But she wasn’t done teasing him yet. She just needed a new angle.

Lacey: so did you ever get to…  
relieve that tension i caused  
with my pics?

There was an elongated pause with just those little pulsing dots on her screen to keep her company. Finally, he replied.

Gold: I did. Perks of having a  
private office with a door that  
locks.

Lacey tucked that information away for later. Thinking about him stroking himself had her squirming and pressing her thighs together. She casually palmed her breast, the nipple already stiff and sensitive. Her eyes flicked back to the television as she considered her next response.

Lacey: good to know

Lacey: have you thought  
about me in there before?

Another pause. And then;

Gold: I’ve thought about you  
a good many places.

Gold: Do you like knowing that?

Lacey: yes.

Lacey: tell me what u think about?

Her hand travelled below the sheet to press against her mound through her panties. She ground the heel of her palm against her hooded clit, her fingers shaping the cleft through the dampening undergarment.

Gold: I’ve pictured having you on  
my desk, licking you into a frenzy  
 while you moan. Or pressing  
you up against the window so you  
can see the skyline while I duck you.

Gold: *fuck. Sorry. Autocorrect.

Gold: That was embarrassing.

Lacey dropped her chin to her chest with a snort of amusement. The hand working between her legs stilled as she replied.

Lacey: its ok. bit of a moodkiller tho.  
might need to update ur phones  
autocorrect.

Gold: I could just call. I’d like to hear  
your voice.

Lacey sucked her lower lip between her teeth. Usually she’d be all for it, but right now…

Lacey: can’t right now. watching a movie.

Gold: A woman with her priorities in  
order. I can respect that.

Another pause.

Gold: Is it because of the “duck” thing?

Lacey laughed again, chewing one thumbnail as her other thumb lingered over the keyboard.

Lacey: no. u can duck me anytime, baby.  
but my fave movie is on and I can never  
bring myself to turn it off. Sorry. U prolly  
think thats dumb.

Gold: I don’t think that at all.

Gold: What channel?

Lacey was taken aback but she told him. A moment later, he texted again.

Gold: Great choice. Though, I admit,  
I wouldn’t have pegged you as an  
Audrey Hepburn fan.

Lacey: should I be insulted by that?

Lacey: Anyway, it’s more of a Bogey thing  
for this girl. Not that Audrey wasn’t a golden  
fucking goddess in her day.

Gold: Casablanca?

Lacey: good. But give me maltese falcon anyday.

Lacey: that was one of the first chapter  
books i read as a kid.

 _Why had she told him that?_ Lacey shrugged, leaning over to pick up the wine glass that was still half full on her night stand.

Gold: That’s some heavy subject matter  
for a child. I’m impressed.

Lacey: i live to impress.

Gold: If I listen hard enough, I think I can  
actually hear you rolling your eyes from  
here.

Lacey: i'll roll my eyes more quietly next  
time.

Lacey: anyway, i didn’t say i understood  
the whole thing just that i read it. i love   
the classics My mom left all these old VHS  
tapes behind so i used to watch them a lot.

Gold: You clearly inherited some of that  
good taste, then. Was she the one to  
introduce you to the Monty Python boys, too?

Lacey: no. PBS did that. she was already  
gone by then. Died when I was 10.

Lacey bit her lip, hard. She really hadn’t meant to start talking about her mother. How the fuck had this sext turned into psychoanalysis?

Gold: I’m sorry to hear that.

 _Stupid, stupid Lacey_! Okay so he was being polite about it but who wanted to know this stuff about their hookup? Spending a weekend in bed together should not lead to pouring your fucking heart out in a fucking text. She made a frustrated noise and quickly typed an apology.

Lacey: sorry this got all stupid maudlin. prolly  
not how you wanted to spend your evening.  
U can totes go do something else. I won’t be  
insulted.

Just as she hit send, another text arrived.

Gold: I lost my mother at a young age, too.

Lacey: oh. im sorry.

Gold: Certainly not your fault. But thank you.

For several minutes she wondered if she’d managed to completely kill the conversation. He had sparked her curiosity, though. It was interesting that the two of them, both motherless, had been drawn to one another despite living in different worlds. She wondered if his father had been a deadbeat like hers. Didn’t seem the right time to ask. She gaze flicked back and forth from the tv screen to the phone screen until she set the latter down with a sigh.

Whatever. She’d run out of shit to say, anyway. 

And she could just pretend that wasn’t a yelp of joy escaping her mouth when the phone buzzed again.

Gold: Do you get the banana song stuck  
in your head, too?

The film had reached a scene on a boat with a catchy tune about bananas.

Lacey: Sometimes. i don’t mind it.  
i always loved this scene.

Gold: Because of the banana song?

The ends of Lacey’s mouth turned up once more. She could see what he was trying to do, but it was working anyway.

Lacey: no. that’s just a perk. i love  
this scene because you can see that he’s  
talking about not being romantic but all  
the while he’s clearly already in love with  
her. he just hasn’t realized it yet. it’s  
romantic without being too sappy  ya know?

A minute or two passed and Lacey watched Bogie eye Hepburn with that hazy smile. Her phone went off in her hand and she glanced back down at it.

Gold: Yes. I think I see what you mean.


	7. Lunch at the Office

Neither of them was exactly sure how it happened but one night of idle texting soon became an ongoing conversation. As it turned out, when given the chance to use their mouths and hands on something besides one another, they actually had a great deal to say.

They quickly found common ground in classic literature and film (classic, foreign, and independent). She was thrilled to hear that he read something besides the stock exchange and the news. He, in turn, expressed an ardent desire to take her to Cannes for the next festival. He claimed he’d never had a date who would actually appreciate the experience, so he’d always gone alone. It was all talk, of course. Lacey knew better than to make any plans past next week with a guy like him. Once the shine wore off, one or the other of them would be moving right along. But, for that moment, she allowed herself to pretend it was all real.

She had to admit, she’d been almost shamefully excited to be able to talk Bronte (all three sisters) while naked and eating ice cream in bed.

Lacey had grown up leading a secret dual life as both bad girl and bookworm. There were several nights in her teen years when she lied to her friends about hooking up with college guys when she’d really snuck into the library after hours to read. She had a reputation to maintain, after all. Because good girls didn’t act the way that she did. But bad girls weren’t supposed to like school.

Gold, she discovered, was similarly self-educated. He refused to divulge much about his life before coming to America, but he did offer that tidbit. Lacey was shocked that he hadn’t been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and a Cambridge legacy in his back pocket. He assured her that he’d had no such upbringing. His affinity for the finer things in life was a staple of his position as a CEO at a major corporation.

Throughout the next week, Lacey felt him dropping that stuffy façade, layer by layer. He seemed to take a particular delight in making her laugh. His humor, when he chose to employ it, vacillated between dryly sarcastic and incredibly silly. For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she found that combination surprisingly endearing.

They met up once more, on a Wednesday, this time. Same hotel, same room. He held her while they slept and they woke early to shower together. Which in turn led to him being quite late for work. As he dressed, he mentioned that his office was one of the big high rise buildings she’d passed a few times but never glanced at twice. When she failed to look impressed, he had kissed her thoroughly and asked her never to change.

She assured him she barely thought that was possible, at this point.

And now, four days later as she lazed in her apartment, Lacey was still thinking about that lingering kiss. He had been out of town on business all weekend, so the texting had slowed to a trickle, but he wished her a good night each night before bed and just that little bit of sweetness was making her grin like an idiot. She sat back up and sighed angrily at herself. This was too fucked up. She wasn’t this girl. The one making moony eyes over some guy she hadn’t known a month.

They had already agreed to meet next Friday. It was only a week. Really only 6 days. But here it was, late on Sunday night and Lacey found herself fiddling with her phone, wondering how Mr. Gold might respond to what she could not possibly deny was a booty call. His flight would have gotten in a few hours ago, from what he’d told her.

She ought to be bored. She ought to be sick of the sight of him, by now. She ought to be moving on without a backward glance. Instead, she had composed and deleted 3 text messages. The first sounded silly. The second was too vague. The third just sounded desperate.

With a noise of frustration, she fell back onto her bed. She turned her head toward the nightstand. There was always Rosie…

She had jokingly referred to the large vibrator an old friend had given her as “Rosie the Riveter” and somehow the name had stuck. It was a dusky pink color and at its highest setting might very well be useful as hardware. It had been a gag gift at the time. High school hijinks. She’d kept it once she discovered it was actually quite useful.

But even Rosie’s impressive motor was no match for a skilled lover. And Gold was certainly that. She’d come so many times during their last encounter, it was a mystery how she could walk straight the next day.

Her phone buzzed.

Gold: Are you awake?

She stared at the phone until the words blurred on the screen. Some superstitious part of her mind wondered if he’d somehow known she was thinking about him.  At last, she texted back in the affirmative.

Gold: I’ve been thinking

Her heart dropped into her toes. Oh. So, this was how it ended. A text message. How truly pathetic. She should be glad she hadn’t invested more energy in his sorry ass. She should – 

It buzzed again.

Gold: Sorry, sent too soon. I’ve been thinking that Friday is too far away.

A wave of relief washed over her. Okay, so maybe she was the pathetic one. Getting that worked up about nothing… Or allowing herself to get upset at all. He was just a guy.

Gold: May I see you tomorrow?

Her heart made a giant bound from toes to throat. She tried to swallow around it, her mouth feeling a bit dry. She counted to 20 in her head before replying.

Lacey: Yeah ok. i work in the evening tho. How about lunch?

His reply appeared almost immediately.

Gold: I usually eat in my office but you’re welcome to join me.

Gold: If that’s not too boring.

Lacey grinned. She was pretty sure she could find a way to make it interesting.

***

The next day, Lacey spent far more time than usual trying on outfits and spinning this way and that in front of her mirror. She was going into the business district. Too close to her usual style and she’d look like a hooker. She didn’t mind those hungry looks when she was inviting them at a nightclub but the wolves of Wall street could get a little too close for comfort. She’d been catcalled from a fancy black car more times than walking past a construction site. And men in suits were often a lot pushier about it.

At the same time, Lacey wasn’t exactly one to try and blend in.

Eventually, she settled on a black satin pencil skirt that hit just above the knee, slit up the back to mid-thigh. Under that, she wore lace-topped stockings and no panties. Her top was a striped sleeveless cowl neck that revealed significant cleavage, but only when adjusted at a certain angle. A perfect little peek-a-boo tease. Over that she threw her red leather jacket and some comfortable but stylish heels.

She made it to Gold’s office just before lunchtime. It was unlike her to be early but she was eager and traffic had been surprisingly kind. Lacey rolled her eyes at the stuffy air all about the tall office building. The décor was showy and full of people in clothing that cost more than her rent. Gold’s secretary raised a well-groomed eyebrow but admitted her and informed Gold that she was going to lunch.

When the door opened, the view took her breath away for just a moment. Of course Gold had to be on the top floor. She’d only ever been as high as the roof of a 20 story apartment building. This was easily twice that.

“Sweetheart,” Gold smiled, clearly tickled by her reaction as he closed and locked the door behind her.

Lacey pulled herself together. Okay, she was from a small town but she’d been living in cities for years now. Now was not the time to act like the country mouse!

“Nice place,” she threw off her jacket and slung it over the back of the nearest chair, casually strolling past him, rolling her hips. “Would probably suck in a fire, huh?”

Gold cleared his throat and hung her jacket neatly on a hook by the door. “Indeed.” He sounded caught between amusement and uncertainty, the hand on his cane flexing. He looked damn good, though. He wore his signature tailored suit in an expensive fabric of deep navy blue, a crisp shirt in heather gray and a navy silk tie. He fit the wood paneling and over-sized antique desk in a way that Lacey had never thought she could possibly find attractive. She probably looked cheap in her 20 dollar outfit from Ross, but she found that she didn’t feel that way. Probably because Gold was looking at her like she’d been hand-delivered from Barney’s.

“So, ehm, what… what would you like for lunch?” he asked.

Lacey leaned back against the desk with a feral grin and crooked a finger at him. He raised an eyebrow and approached her at a measured pace. She could almost feel him trying not to look as ready to pounce as she felt. That was alright, she could take on that role, today. She wasn’t really in the mood to play games, anyway. She just wanted to feel him inside her. She clenched her thighs together.

Pulling him closer with his tie as a leash, she brushed her lips against his. “You,” she whispered, darting her tongue out to taste his mouth. She felt his breath quicken before stealing it with a kiss. The cane clattered against the desk as it fell to the floor. Both of his arms wrapped around her to hold her to him. Her hands ran through his soft hair, tugging at the ends and letting her nails scrape against his scalp. He made a sound deep in his throat and dropped one hand down to grip her arse, the other still pressed flat against her back.

She pushed him lightly away, with a laugh. So much for pretense. Good. She wanted him just as hungry as she was.

She led him, by the tie, around to the other side of his desk and pushed him into the chair. He was a sight, hair hopelessly mussed, mouth smudged with her lipstick. His suit was rumpled and trousers tented at the front. Perfect.

Biting her lower lip, she pulled her shirt over her head to reveal the sheer bra beneath. He gave a groan of approval, reaching forward to touch her. She playfully batted his hand away. Her choice. Her rules. He grinned and sat back in his chair, palming his erection.

She liked that sight too.

Half-turning to afford him the best view, she slipped the pencil skirt down to her ankles and stepped out of it. Gold muttered a swear word and covered his mouth with his hand.

Licking her lips, Lacey faced him again and went slowly down to her knees, giving him time to realize her intention. Gold’s mouth dropped open, his half-lidded eyes nearly all pupil.

“Lacey,” he breathed.

“Shhh,”she said, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly. “Wouldn’t want that nice secretary of yours to hear….”

Just as she was saying that, they heard a knock at the door. Both heads swiveled toward it.

“Go away!” Gold called.

“Richard, I need to go over these briefs,” a woman’s voice, English and quite posh.

Gold made a face as Lacey tried not to giggle.

“Come back after lunch,” he called.

“I’m coming in, Richard,” the woman called.

“No, you bloody are not.”

The lock on the door made a rattling sound and Lacey quickly grabbed her outer garments before crawling under the desk. Gold swiped at his lipsticked mouth with one hand, adjusting his tie with the other. He looked down at Lacey helplessly and she rolled her eyes, pulling the bottom of his chair in toward her so his lap would be covered by the desk. Luckily, it was quite spacious under there.

The door opened and Lacey could smell a swanky perfume. Her nose wrinkled.

“Well, you certainly don’t look that busy to me,” the woman drawled.

“How the fuck did you get a key to this office, Zelena?” Gold growled.

The so-named Zelena launched into some overly dramatic story about an encounter with the building superintendent and having a master key in case of emergencies.

Meanwhile, Gold’s thighs, on either side of Lacey, grew tenser with every word the Englishwoman spoke. Lacey smoothed her hands over them, applying gentle reassuring pressure. Reaching blindly, he caught one of her hands in hers and squeezed it. She squeezed back before slipping her hand free to caress his inner thigh, a little higher this time. His fly was only half done, belt still open. From under his shirttails, she could see his still semi-hard cock give a twitch.

Gold interrupted Zelena. “Enough! There isn’t an emergency on Earth where I’d require you to have access to my office. Hand over the key.”

As the other woman began sputtering excuses, Lacey leaned gingerly forward, careful not to bump her head. She ran the flat of her tongue the full exposed length of his cock.

Gold inhaled sharply and then pretended to cough.

“Are you alright, Richard, dear?” The woman asked, all coquettish concern.

“Fine,” Gold barked, just as Lacey was pulling his zip the rest of the way open, wrapping her hand around his shaft. He took another deep breath. “What will it take to get you out of my hair, Zelena?”

Lacey pulled back his foreskin and swirled her tongue around the head. Gold made a stilted grunting sound, his thighs falling even further apart.

Zelena’s voice was closer when she spoke this time. “The deal with Booth. I think we’re getting taken for a ride.”

Lacey bit back a chuckle at the choice of terminology before taking Gold fully into her mouth, still working her tongue the whole way down.

“Oh aye?” Gold’s tone was just a little strained, his hand reaching below the desk again to bury itself in Lacey’s hair. He neither pushed her toward his lap nor pulled her away, just twined his fingers through the curls and gave a slight tug. A pleasant shiver tingled down from her scalp to her lower extremities.

Lacey had told him in a text message just how she liked having her hair pulled. She rewarded him for remembering   by taking him deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she pulled back.

She was vaguely aware of Zelena still talking and Gold giving the occasional caustic reply. But her world had narrowed to his hand massaging her scalp and him filling her mouth. He was hot and so hard, salty and smooth as silk on her tongue. She reached down between her own legs with her other hand, working with a frenzied determination to relieve the mounting ache. She was molten and desperate, so close to the edge but her own fingers not quite giving her what she needed.

At long last, she heard Zelena leave, the door slamming behind her. Gold pulled away almost violently and hauled Lacey out from under the desk.  He was panting and wild eyed as he tugged her to him for a messy kiss. He dug a condom out of his jacket pocket and held it up, questioningly.

“God, yes!” Lacey whispered, fiercely.

Without another word, he had bent her over the edge of the desk. She heard the condom wrapper tear open and almost immediately after, he was sliding inside of her. And oh yes, that was what she’d been missing. Exactly what she needed. He was too worked up to last long and she knew it, but she was just around the corner, herself. He pulled almost all the way out before plunging back in to the hilt. Lacey bit her own palm to stifle a moan. She bucked back against him, encouraging him to go faster. Harder. He set up a punishing rhythm, leaning over to tend to her clit with one hand and supporting himself on the desk with the other. The wood was smooth but solid and she’d have bruises on her upper thighs tomorrow. She’d look at them and smile. His teeth sank into the place her neck met her shoulder and that was what did it. Soaring over the edge, her inner muscles clamped down on his cock, milking his own orgasm from him.

He kissed his way down her spine before removing himself from her and sinking back into his office chair. She turned on shaking legs and leaned back against the desk, swiping stray wisps of hair off  of her perspiring face. Once he’d removed and thrown out the condom, Gold pulled her onto his lap. A quiet calm descended and she was content just to let him nuzzle her neck, planting lazy kisses as the mood took him.

Something struck her momentarily and Lacey giggled.

“What?” he murmured against her skin.

She gave him a slow, sated grin. “And here you thought lunch might be boring…”


	8. Prompt Fills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Various prompt/ask fills that fit within the canon of this verse. Roughly in chronological order.

**Anonymous** asked:  
 _Hands On!Lacey: Have you given Gold a massage while naked? Maybe do it while waking him up?_

Gold was having the most delicious dream…. Warm, smooth hands were kneading gently but firmly at the tense muscles of his upper back.Every now and again a pair of soft lips would brush against the back of his neck, his jaw, his shoulder blade. He had never felt so relaxed. 

Consciousness eased its way over him like a well-worn blanket. 

He hummed his contentment, remembering now that he had fallen asleep at the side of his lovely masseuse. And this time, she appeared to have stayed. One of her hands smoothed the fine hair away from his brow. He shifted to capture it in his own hand, giving her palm a sleepy kiss. Propping himself on one elbow, he blinked at his bedmate. 

“That was the best wake-up I’ve ever had. Thank you.” 

Lacey gave a throaty laugh and pushed him gently onto his back. She moved to straddle his hips, the sheets falling away to reveal that she had slept in the nude. “I bet I can make it better..”

 *** 

**Anonymous** asked:  
 _Has Lacey gotten a massage from Gold? ;)_

“I may not be the expert but I’m pretty sure relaxation shouldn’t involve so much giggling.” Gold said tersely, though there was a hint of a smile in his voice and his hands on her back remained gentle. 

Lacey tried to swallow another snort as his fingers traveled her ribcage. “Well, it’s not a very relaxing massage if you keep accidentally tickling me.” She propped herself on an elbow and looked back over one shoulder. “It is accidental, isn’t it?”

He made a face at her and she was lost in another peal of laughter, turning back over and planting her face in the pillow. 

He sighed. “Everyone’s a critic.” 

She felt him shift slightly on the bed, coming to straddle her hips. This time his touch was firm, the heels of his palms sliding up either side of her spine. The laughter dried up and arousal followed in its wake. She wanted to purr and arch into his touch like a cat. But then she had a thought “That’s… that’s much better. But…will your leg be okay like that?”

He bent down to put his lips close to her ear and she could feel him half-hard against her behind. “You let me worry about that. This is just for you.” He kissed behind her ear, sending a pleasant shiver through her. “And I promise, no more tickling.”

*** 

 **Anonymous** asked:  
 _Hands On!Lacey: Is there anyone else in the workplace that seems to have their eyes on your client? *cough* a certain witch *cough*_

Lacey: my nose is itching. were u thinking about me?

Gold: When am I not? Either that or you’re coming down with a cold.

Lacey: hope not! i had plans for u this weekend….

Gold: Ah, then it’s a shame you didn’t mention this earlier. I have a business trip until Sunday night.

Lacey: oh

Lacey: k

Gold: Sorry, I thought I told you. Mills planned it last month and insists if I’m not there, the deal will fall through.

Lacey: which mills? crazy or crazier?

Gold: Crazier, sadly. I can at least tolerate the other sister, at times.

Lacey: ugh. she still practically stalking u? hope u checked the reservations for separate rooms this time.

Gold: Way ahead of you. Had my assistant book them and make certain no one else could change them.

Lacey: good. she can keep her hands to herself or she can answer to me.

Gold: Is that concern on my behalf? Dare I say even jealousy?

Lacey: no

Lacey: just don’t like sloppy seconds

Gold: Crude but effective, as usual, darling.

Lacey: u like it

Gold: Apparently, I do. See you when I get back? I promise to arrive untouched.

Lacey: yeah ok

Lacey: u can touch urself if u want. maybe i can send some pics to help u unwind?

Gold: I’d like that ;)

***

 **Anonymous** asked:  
 _Hands On!Lacey: Just wondering if the parlor does any specials for Valentine's Day?_

Just as Lacey was hitting the continue button on Netflix, her phone buzzed. 

Gold: Plans this weekend?

Lacey: riding u like a racehorse?

Gold: Good plan. Bring a nice dress for Sunday?

Lacey: gotta work sun. valentines couple massages two 4 one. ugh. fucker of a boss made it mandatory. 

Gold: Oh. 

Gold: I can probably move the reservation to Saturday.

She made a face, absentmindedly skipping through the opening credits of the show. 

Lacey: not another up its own ass restaurant 

Lacey: that was not really my thing last time

Gold: I remember. As delicious as you are in your ire, I thought we’d skip the part where you storm out and yell at me for being a pretentious arse. 

Lacey snorted. She’d always suspected he found her sexy when she was pissed off. Certainly explained some of the teasing…. 

Gold: I think you’ll like this one better. 

Lacey: hmph, maybe. where we going?

Gold: Am I allowed no surprises?

Lacey: not when they involve weird food

Gold: Fair enough. It’s the dinner theatre just outside of town. Buffet style, so there are plenty of choices. 

Lacey: what show?

Gold: Nosy little thing, aren’t you?

Gold: Sound of Music

Lacey swallowed, heart in her throat as her thumb hovered over the keys. At length, she replied.

Lacey: thats one of my faves

Gold: I remember.

Lacey found herself grinning at her phone like an idiot. She hadn’t had plans on Valentine’s Day weekend that didn’t involve work or getting fucked up in… a long time. Oh, she was in so much trouble… 

***

 **Anonymous** asked:  
 _Did Hands On Gold and Lacey ever successfully sext or did they give up?_

Gold: Hey

Lacey: hey

Lacey: r u back in town yet?

Gold: Tuesday.

Lacey: u travel too damn much.

Gold: Missing me? I’m touched.

Lacey: miss ur mouth

Lacey: and ur cock

Lacey: that’s about it, so don’t get a big head about it

Gold: Oh, to be thought of so tenderly…

Gold: I miss your mouth as well. And your hands. And the rest of you, actually.

Lacey: r u missing me right now?

Gold: Very much.

Gold: I’m alone in the hotel room and wishing you were here to share this obscenely large mattress.

Lacey: what would u wanna do if i was there?

Gold: I’d kiss your lips and undress you.

Gold: I’d touch your beautiful breasts and suck on your nipples until you moaned.

Gold: Do you like that?

Lacey: keep going

Gold: I’d kiss my way down your body until I was between your legs. You always smell so delicious. I can almost taste you now.

Lacey: fuck.

Lacey: youve gotten better at this

Gold: Glad to hear it.

Gold: It’s all I’ve been thinking about all day. I want to make you scream for me when I get home, Lacey.

Gold: Lacey?

Lacey: yeah

Lacey: sorry

Lacey: dropped the phone

Gold: Really? I’ll take that as a compliment.

Lacey: u should

*** 

**Anonymous** asked:  
 _Hands On Gold: Are You and Lacey exclusive? Is that a talk your gonna have?_

Lacey melted back against the pillows, panting. “Desk have their uses, but you really can’t beat a good old fashioned bed…”

Gold made a rumbling sound of agreement, resting his head against her breasts. She absentmindedly stroked his sweaty hair, thinking of nothing in particular.

A buzzing sound roused her from a near doze. She realized it was her phone, sitting beside them on the nightstand. Gold lipped at her left breast as she reached over to grab it. A name was flashing across the screen she hadn’t seen or thought about in some time now. Some guy she’d met at a club, tan and muscular with gelled hair. She made a face at the screen and pushed the button to ignore it.

Gold yawned, rolling back onto the pillow. “Hope it wasn’t important?”

 “What? Oh. No, definitely not.” She deposited the phone back where it had been.

Gold licked his lips, eyeing her in his peripheral. “Are you certain? Awfully late for a social call.”

Lacey scrunched up her face, “Um, geez sorry _Dad_ …”

He turned over, looking taken aback. “Beg your pardon?”

She shook her head. “Nevermind. I just don’t take well to people checking up on me.”

He lay back on the pillow, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’m sorry. That… wasn’t my intention.”

Gold went very quiet and very still beside her. Lacey pursed her lips. There was something bothering him and she had a pretty good idea what it was. Peeling herself off the bed, she straddled his hips.

He raised an eyebrow. “Up for another round, already?”

“Talk to me.”

His hands slid up her hips, thumbs stroking the jutting bones on either side. “About how badly I want to run my tongue down your –”

“No,” she interrupted, “I mean, yes, that too. But not right now. You’re upset, aren’t you? Tell me.”

His mouth fell open and then closed, audibly sucking in a breath. “Lacey… it’s not… it’s none of my business.” His eyes flicked toward the nightstand, confirming her earlier suspicion. “You’re a free woman and you’re allowed to… to…”

Lacey leaned forward and silenced him with a kiss. Against his lips, she murmured “It wasn’t anyone. It’s… there’s only been you. Since all this started.” She dared to open her eyes, pulling back to gauge his reaction. This was kind of a huge revelation for her to make, a long limb to go out on. Her heart was starting to pound as Gold’s eyes searched hers.His mouth slowly curved into a smile.

He snaked an arm between them to cup her cheek. “This may go without saying but… likewise.”

She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Oh thank fuck…” and swooped in for another kiss.

*** 

**Anonymous** asked:  
 _Hands on hands on hands on! Will there be more Hands On?? I want Lacey to see Gold's house or Gold to see her crappy apartment or whatever. I want them in each others spaces, seeing that reality and having a moment._

Why the fuck had she invited him over to hers? And offered to make dinner on top of it? What madness had possessed her to think she could bloody cook? Especially for a man who was accustomed to caviar this and tartare that. The only tartar Lacey knew was that mayonaissey stuff you had with frozen fishsticks to make them taste marginally less like reheated sponges. **  
**

Her post-orgasmic brain was clearly not to be trusted. But it was far too late to take it back, now. 

Lacey looked incredulously around the living room she’d been cleaning all day. With the roommates out of town for a week, she’d just shoved all their crap in their bedroom. It helped with the cleaning, but she’d never realized how sparse this place really was without a mountain of pizza boxes or dirty socks at every turn. She sighed, wiping her sweaty forehead. Oh well. At least it smelled pleasantly of lavender soap and not week old leftovers. Plus, she’d set aside a couple of candles from work to light in strategic places.

She threw an old sheet across the shabby sofa to hide the stains and frowned at it. It would have to do. Besides, Gold wasn’t coming over for her decorating skills, was he? She’d be surprised if they spent much time at all in the living room. With that in mind, she’d really gone to town on the bedroom. All her books were either on shelves or at least piled neatly beside them. Her shoes and clothes were contained by the narrow closet and she’d put her nicest sheets on the bed.

Now all she had to do was figure out dinner. Lacey made a face. Easier said than done. She had picked up some pasta and vegetables but every recipe online seemed to take too long or require kitchen equipment she did not own. It would have to be something simple. Something even she couldn’t mess up. 

With a sigh, she padded to the bathroom to shower off. She had a feeling he’d be exactly on time, as usual. The man really needed to learn a thing or two about fashionable lateness.

***

Gold was never a man to be late for anything, but he came rather close, tonight. He’d spent what felt like an eternity pacing the flower store, looking for something that felt just right. At last, he’d decided on the bouquet in his hand, large red lilies inset with red roses. He knew it was a color she enjoyed and there was something about the brashness of the larger blooms against the elegance of the roses that made him think of her.

The wine had taken far less time to choose, as he knew Lacey would probably drink whatever he put in front of her. Not that he was complaining.

He had slung the bag with the wine over his wrist and tucked the bouquet under the arm holding his cane, leaving one hand free to knock. Then, he hesitated, the blood running just a tad too fast through his veins.  After four months of seeing one another on an increasingly regular basis, this was the first time they’d met at a residence. Her residence, to be precise. Gold ran the free hand over his recently shaven face, taking a deep breath. It was utterly ridiculous to feel so nervous. This was far from a first date.

Yet… there was such a sense of intimacy to being in her very own space, seeing a part of her life to which he had not yet been privvy. It felt very different from meeting at a hotel room or having it off in his office. And that left him feeling both uneasy and… inexplicably excited. 

He shook his head at his own foolishness and rapped on the door.


	9. A Night In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a prompt about a dinner date that I began (see previous chapter, last prompt) but it got... a bit longer

Lacey started at the sound of him knocking. She glanced at the clock. He was bang on time. Down to the minute. Which would have been fine if she wasn’t still barefoot with her hair in a messy bun atop her head, standing over half-cooked noodles. She padded over to the door, taking a deep breath to calm her racing pulse.

The door swung open to Gold holding a bouquet and looking a bit like a deer in the headlights.

“Hey,” he gave a small smile.

“Hey.” She licked her lips, shifting her weight.

They stared at one another, unspeaking, until Lacey realized that perhaps he was waiting for an invitation. She cleared her throat, stepping aside. “You can, um, you can come in, you know.”

He looked momentarily startled, then smiled bashfully as he walked past her. “Right. Sorry. I didn’t… um… Here.” He held out a large, vibrant bouquet.

She blinked at them for a moment, recognizing the the genus from a childhood working in her father’s flower shop.. “Amaryllis?” she asked, her voice feeling oddly tight.

He bit back a frown.“Pardon?”

She took the flowers, shaking her head. “Nothing. I… used to have an interest in botany. Sort of. Whatever. Anyway, they’re, um, they’re really beautiful. Thank you.”

“No matter,” he murmured, withdrawing what she recognized as a very expensive wine bottle from the bag on his arm and placing it on the counter.

Lacey looked around for something to put the flowers in and then remembered there was a glass pitcher she used sometimes for sun tea. It was tucked away in a top cabinet and she had to stand on tip-toe to almost reach the handle, but not quite.

From behind her, Gold reached the pitcher and pulled it down, the lapel of his suit jacket brushing her exposed back. She turned to face him, finding herself backed up against the counter in a way that made her breath catch. He smelled delicious.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling a little breathless. They’d been sleeping together a couple months now, but just standing this close still left her dizzy and excited, butterflies taking wing in her belly.

“It’s nice to be taller than someone for once,” he chuckled, adam’s apple bobbing as he set the pitcher down on the counter beside her. His gaze shifted to her face. “I’ve been a terribly remiss date, Lacey, and I do apologize.”

“Remiss? How? You already brought flowers and wine. I mean chocolates would have maybe made the trifecta but probably would have been overkill.” She was babbling slightly which was very unlike her but she fell silent as Gold brushed a stray lock of her hair behind one ear.

“I forgot to tell you how beautiful you look,” he said softly, his breath warm against her face.

Lacey swallowed hard. “Oh. Thank you.”

“Of course,” he murmured, his lips barely an inches from hers.

She closed the distance between them, kissing him firmly, one hand coming to grasp his tie and the other on his shoulder. He deepened the kiss, his free hand bracing on the counter. The edge was digging into her lower back and she arched away from it, bring her hips flush against his. He made a noise low in his throat, pulling back just enough to nip playfully at her lips.

In retaliation, Lacey grabbed a handful of his arse and squeezed.

He chuckled, “So far, I like your cooking very much.”

Lacey hummed her amusement. “Just wait til we get to the main course.” Gold licked his lips and leaned back in but Lacey slipped away, waggling a finger at him. “Ah ah ah, no spoiling your appetite on hors d'oeuvres…”

Gold grinned, his brown eyes sparking with mischief in a way that made her stomach flip. Before she made a complete fool of herself, she turned to where the bouquet lay abandoned on the table. She trimmed the stems into the sink with efficiency, muscle memory kicking it. She hadn’t uttered a word but the moment she turned, Gold was at her side with the pitcher full of water.

“Thanks.” She accepted the pitcher, dropping in the flowers and arranging them to their best advantage.

Gold was looking at her with frank curiosity. “Botany?”

Her cheeks went hot, fingers fumbling over the petals. “Florist’s shop, technically. But I liked knowing all the names and... and what they meant.”

He shifted closer, his hand resting on her lower back. “You sound like a very dedicated employee.”

Lacey’s head shot up, searching for any trace of mockery but his gaze was full of gentle interest. It made her want to unfold, to reveal herself to him in ways she never had before. “My parents owned a flower shop. Mom... “ she smiled at the memory, “Mom was kind of obsessed with the language of flowers. She always wanted to go to Japan and study flower arranging but we could never afford it. Just coming to America took a big chunk of the nest egg. But Dad had better prospects here and Mom starting setting up her flower shop. It was just this little hole in the wall but she was so proud of it…”

A lump rose in Lacey’s throat as she recalled the tiny, brightly colored shop. Her father’s business was drained dry by the cost of treating her mother’s cancer, but even when they lost the house and had to declare bankruptcy, they’d kept the flower shop.

Lacey and her father would bring fresh flowers to the hospital every day and Momma’s eyes would light up. She would name each flower and tell a little story about what they meant together, even when her voice was cracking and lungs struggling to draw breath.

“Lacey?” Gold’s voice drew her from the memory. “Sweetheart?”

She turned to him, the backs of her eyes burning with long unshed tears. “I… um. The noodles are probably done, now.” Padding to the stove, she forced herself to breathe normally. “I hope you don’t mind sauce from a jar. I got the brand name stuff just for the occasion.”

Gold shifted his weight awkwardly and cleared his throat. “Sounds delightful, sweetheart. Do you have a corkscrew?”

Lacey made a dismissive noise, expelling air through her teeth. “What kinda silly question is that?” She pulled open the drawer beside the stove and fished through it as she turned off the burner with her other hand. Her fingers closed over the smooth plastic and she held out the wine opener without looking toward him. Her heart was still drumming fast, the past weighing heavily around her narrow shoulders.

Wordlessly, Gold took the wine opener. Then, he made a choking noise, somewhere between a laugh and a cough.

Lacey glanced over her shoulder and immediately wanted to smack herself in the face for not paying attention. There, in the center of her very sophisticated date’s palm was a little plastic man with painted on chest hair, the corkscrew rising proudly from his cheetah print undies.

Gold was staring down at the thing as though unsure how to proceed. His lips were pressed tight and eyes wide. “Well…. let it never be said your tastes aren’t eclectic.”

Lacey felt a giggle building in her chest, pushing away the darkness that had begun to settle in. “Hey, I never promised you high class, buddy.”

Gold’s shoulders were beginning to shake, his nostrils flaring with the repressed humor but he inclined his head politely and began to open the bottle with a practiced hand. Just as he was pulling out the cork, their eyes caught.

She nodded toward the man-shaped wine opener. “See, he gets the job done.”

“Oh, yes indeed.” He affected a slight pout that looked wholly out of place on his handsome face. “It’s just that… I _had_ hoped to be the best dressed man here.”

And that was all it took, the bubble burst and she couldn’t stop the giggles from flowing. Soon, Lacey found herself bent over double, laughing so hard her stomach hurt. Gold was in a similar state, hastily putting the bottle on the table before it could spill and taking his cane back up. In his free hand, he still clutched the wine opener, the cork only adding to the crudity of the image.

When she could breathe again, she crossed to the table and flung her arms around Gold, kissing him soundly. Both wine and pasta were forgotten for several minutes more.

***

The pasta was overcooked and the sauce was watery but the wine and - more importantly - the company were more than excellent enough to compensate. Gold had allowed himself to relax, discarding his tie and cufflinks, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt and rolling his shirtsleeves to the elbow.

They talked of nothing in particular as they ate, Lacey's bare foot occasionally sliding under his pants leg or along his inner thigh. She seemed to take a certain delight in making him stumble over whatever banal thing he’d just been saying. He’d been half hard since she kissed him in the kitchen but he was determined to make it all the way through dinner before throwing her down on table to make another sort of meal. It seemed she was just as determined to tease him out of this resolution.

He heard a soft scrape as she scooted her chair closer to the table, sliding down in her seat. He felt the soft pressure of her big toe sliding unerringly up toward the apex of his legs. His cock gave an interested pulse, lengthening against the confine of his zipper. He licked his lips and met her heavy lidded gaze across the table.

“Sweetheart, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that dinner was only a ruse to get me here for...” he raised one eyebrow, “ _other_ purposes…”

She gave a throaty chuckle. “Clearly my ingenious plan had a fatal flaw if you’re just gonna sit over there all night.” The ball of her foot skimmed across the hard line of his growing erection.

“Well, I do hate to be rude.”

Lacey snorted, eyes gleaming in the dim light. “You love to be rude.”

“You love it when I’m rude,” he countered with a lazy grin.

She raised both eyebrows, cocking her head to the side. “Do I?” She stroked him again with her foot, increasing the pressure.

“Mm-hm,” he hummed, gently removing her leg and rising from his seat. “A polite man wouldn’t have buried his head between your legs on the massage table where you work…” he stalked over to her chair, using the table for support in lieu of his cane. The tip of Lacey's tongue appeared at the corner of her smile before sweeping over her lips. Gold continued, “a polite man wouldn't have bent you over his desk with his coworkers just outside the door.”

He pulled her chair away from the table and she helped him pivot it toward himself. “A polite man would finish dinner” he sunk to his knees, careful of his injured calf, “before indulging himself in dessert…” his hands at her knees gently pushed them apart. He dipped his head to plant a hot, open mouthed kiss on the inside of each thigh.

Lacey made a needy little sound at the back of her throat, sliding even further forward until she was balanced at the edge of the chair. Her skirt hiked up with the movement, revealing a red thong, the fabric made darker by her gathering wetness.

Gold met her gaze, a thrill running through him at the raw hunger he saw there. His hands massaged his way up her thighs, thumbs rolling in semi-circles until they framed her core.

Leaning in, he ran the flat of his tongue up the red scrap of fabric and she inhaled sharply. He repeated the motion, flicking the tip of his tongue hard just at the top. Lacey swore, leaning back on her hands to drape one leg over his shoulder. Gold smiled and nibbled the flesh of that thigh. Lacey giggled and squirmed, drawing him closer with a nudge of her heel.

He hooked one thumb under the front of her thong drawing it tight against the slick flesh, the fabric outlining her lower lips perfectly.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Lacey made a soft little noise that almost sounded like embarrassment. But that couldn't be. Not his balls-out brash little Lacey. He dismissed it as his imagination and pulled the sodden scrap of fabric aside to taste her fully.

She moaned, her head lolling back as he slid his tongue the length of her slit, swirling over her hooded clit. He teased her with little licks until she was whimpering and begging for more. Then, sliding one finger knuckle deep, he turned the full focus of his mouth to that sensitive little bundle of nerves peeking out at him over her entrance.

Lacey bucked her hips, urging him to add a second finger, then a third as he fucked her with his hand. Unbuckling and unzipping his trousers, he palmed his hardness, stroking himself in time with the thrusts of his fingers. He felt her legs begin to shake, one heel digging in between his shoulder blades as her inner muscles clenched and fluttered. Lacey soon howled her release, nearly tipping over the chair in her enthusiasm.

Gold had barely taken a breath when she launched herself from her seat, pushing him backward until he lay prone on the floor. He almost laughed at the clumsy maneuvering when her hot little hand wrapped around his cock and all he could do was gasp with pleasure. He's been steadily ignoring the aching throb of his cock and heavily balls but Lacey was happy to alleviate his suffering. She kissed him deeply before ripping off her thong and dress. She'd worn no bra so she was fully, gloriously naked as she straddled him.

Slicking him with her own wetness, Lacey sank slowly down, taking him inch by inch until he was fully inside her. Gold groaned his relief, his hands going to her breasts, palming their slight heft and plucking at her taut nipples. She set up a punishing rhythm, grinding and snapping her hips as she rode him. Gold felt himself ready to explode, muttering jumbled filth and adoration, planting his feet to match her thrust for thrust.

At last he felt her getting close once more and let her milk him into orgasm, pleasure ripping through him as he shouted her name.

Lacey swore again and collapsed atop him, breathing hard as he softened and reluctantly slipped out of her. Something occurred to him and a laugh escaped, giddy as he was.

“What?” Lacey's voice was muffled by his shoulder.

“Well, I just realized what a mess we've made of these trousers. I probably shouldn't wear them home.”  

“Mm. There's a dry cleaner down the street. We can take them in the morning,” she said dismissively then paused, going slightly tense in his arms.

He swallowed, fighting down the little flurry of excitement in his chest - far different from what they'd shared already this evening. “Does that mean you… would like me to stay here tonight?” He felt like an idiot having to ask, and even more so for holding his breath until she answered.

“It… would be rude not to invite you.”

He ran a hand through her sweat dampened curls, come loose from the knot atop her head. “And you, unlike me, are never rude.”

Lacey nosed his neck. “Nope. I'm nothing if not a motherfucking lady.”


End file.
